


baby i've already got your heart

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dramatic Tension, I swear this sounds super dramatic, Kissing, M/M, Obsession, Prinxiety - Freeform, Stalking, but just wait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 17:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20118559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Virgil loves Roman.Maybe too much.





	baby i've already got your heart

**Author's Note:**

> this is slightly song fic-y, and the song in question is "an unhealthy obsession" by the blake robinson synthetic orchestra, it's really good

_Some call it stalking, I say walking just extremely close behind _  
_I'm sure if I sat down and asked you, well you really wouldn't mind _  
_You've got those eyes that drive me crazy, and I've got eyes to watch you sleep _

Virgil pauses, slipping back around the corner, just as Roman turns his head. Nothing. Not even a whisper of Virgil's traitorous shadow.

_Good_, Virgil thinks. If Roman sees him _now_, everything is ruined. It's bad enough that he has to tail him right into the imagination, otherwise known as Roman's domain, but that doesn't mean Virgil will get sloppy. Not now. The scent of Roman's shampoo fills his nose and he has to stifle a delighted sigh. He can picture Roman perfectly, down to the wisps of hair escaping his collar, the spray of freckles across his cheeks that he usually conceals with makeup, and the way his hair falls into his eyes when he's distracted. Even the tiny, faded splotch on his shoulder, where Logan accidentally bumped into him this morning and got jam on his shirt.

But this isn't time to reminisce. If he does _that_, then he'll _definitely_ get caught and how is he going to explain this? How can he explain what the embodiment of Creativity does to him? It sounds ridiculous. He's _Anxiety_, he's not supposed to feel this burning _desire_ to-

He fidgets with his hoodie, peeking around the corner again. Roman is still oblivious. Virgil looks up, an idea forming in his mind.

Moments later, he's glad because Roman has decided to re-trace his steps, pacing back down the hall, urgency dogging every footfall. He reaches the corner where Virgil stood and peers around.

But Virgil's not there.

He looks down from his new vantage point on the ceiling, taking care to minimize his breathing so Roman doesn't hear anything untoward and decide to look _up_. It requires all his concentration to stay on the ceiling and not plummet to the floor. Wouldn't that be a fine mess, he thinks in disgust. Literally _falling_ for the object of his affections. Patton would love that pun. Maybe he'll tell him at some point. Or not. Then he'd have to explain what exactly he was doing.

Roman's on the move again. Virgil carefully follows on the ceiling, always staying just behind him. Roman's crown glints gold, nestled in the soft nest of his hair. Virgil wants nothing more than to run his hands through the artfully mussed strands, to stare into those warm brown eyes as they fill his everything-

He shakes his head. Later. He can daydream all he wants later. But now is Roman time. Now is watching every move he makes. Who knew "Every Breath You Take" could be an instruction manual? Virgil almost laughs.

He looks down. Finally, Roman's leaving the imagination. It's late. Is he going to bed? Virgil can't wait to see him in his pajamas, tucked into his king-sized bed. A bed fit for a prince. When Roman's asleep, perhaps he'll feel brave enough to-

_Gotta be as quiet as a mouse, or else you'll call the police _  
_And I'll get done for somethin' stupid like disturbance of the peace _  
_And piece by piece I am collecting all the things you leave behind _

It's tricky, slipping out of the imagination before Roman notices, but somehow Virgil manages, scrambling up the wall and perching on the top of Roman's dresser. Roman rummages through his dresser, although Virgil can't quite make out what he's doing. He frowns in annoyance. What is he going to do now?

Leave his bedroom, apparently, as he closes his dresser drawer with a gentle click, and strides over to his bedroom door, slipping through it. This, he leaves open, and Virgil takes his time easing through it. A wise precaution, for Roman has paused not far outside it, obviously alert. _Shit._ Virgil's heartbeat thrums in his ears. But Roman still doesn't look up. The glitter of his crown is a siren song, pulling Virgil inexorably forward. 

_How would you react if I said I love you? If I said I want to-_

He leans down, as far as he can reach, and gently plucks the crown free of its wavy confines, clutching it to his chest. 

"_Hey!_"

Virgil nearly falls off the ceiling at Roman's indignant shout until he realizes it's directed at innocent, barefoot Patton, who's in cat-patterned pajamas and trembling like a leaf.

"Wh-what is it, Roman?" Patton stammers. "Why are you still up?"

"I could ask _you_ the same question," Roman says pointedly. Patton flushes bright red.

"I er- I wanted a cookie," he admits. Roman stares blankly at him. 

"What?" Roman asks. 

"I couldn't sleep," Patton says, with a shrug. "Cookies help me sleep."

"I'm not sure Logan would agree with you there," Roman says. "But uh. Carry on, I suppose."

"Thanks," Patton says, sidling past. "Oh, and Roman, I _love_ the new look! It suits you."

"What new look?" Roman asks, baffled. Patton beams.

"Going without the crown, of course!" Patton giggles. "You still look very dashing!" Roman feels the top of his head in a panic, and Virgil can't take it anymore. He silently drops from the ceiling behind Roman, doubling over in laughter.

"Virgil, you _asshole_," Roman says, whirling around and glaring at him. Virgil straightens up and smirks, dangling the crown carelessly from one finger. Roman snatches it free and jams it back on his head.

"Hey, you bet me I couldn't do it," Virgil says, shrugging. "You _swore_ I couldn't do it. That I wouldn't last ten seconds in the imagination with you."

"You couldn't have been there," Roman protests.

"I was," Virgil grins. "Patton's right about one thing. You look dashing with or without the crown."

Roman's eyes soften as he steps closer to his boyfriend. Virgil reddens.

"Princey," he murmurs.

"Emo Nightmare," Roman murmurs back. "My room or yours?"

"Yours," Virgil says. "Last time you slept over in my room, you had a screaming nightmare fit over the curtains, remember? You woke up _everyone_." Now it's Roman's turn to flush.

"Oh, right," he mutters. "My room it is, then! Lead the way!" Virgil stretches up on his tip toes, planting a long, lingering kiss on his boyfriend's mouth.

"You still have to pay up tomorrow," Virgil says, smirking. "I can't _wait_ to see you in Remus's platform crocs."

"Why did I have to agree to that?" Roman groans. "Why didn't someone stop me?"

"Because everyone wants to see you in Remus's platform crocs," Virgil snickers. "Come on, Princey. You'll reach new _heights_ of fashion."

And before Roman can react, Virgil dashes into his bedroom, laughter trailing after him.


End file.
